


decorative and deadly

by lutzaussi



Series: decorative and deadly [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/F, Ino is a Princess, Medieval Romanticism, Sakura is a Knight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-07 14:52:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11061285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lutzaussi/pseuds/lutzaussi
Summary: Tournaments mean jousting, exhibition matches, and melees. Ino is not expecting to find her future spouse there, and in fact is actively trying not to. But, well. In between the finances and the feasting, that happens.





	decorative and deadly

Ino was all but bored out of her freaking skull. Years before, the tournaments at the end of spring would excite her, and she’d spend the entire span of the two weeks in a sugar-strengthened high thanks to all of the cakes and pastries the kitchens and food booths turned out, but now that she was of marrying age the occasions had taken an annoying turn.

More often than not, delegations from other noble families or other kingdoms would come with the sole purpose of presenting their eligible children for her hand. Regardless if said children were even worthwhile fighters. Or even interested in her. Yes, Ino could acknowledge that she was one of the most desirable marriage prospects in the region given the fertile land and number of mines in the kingdom, but it was an annoyance she wanted to deal with without the trouble of a tournament.

Then there was the fact that she had to deal with her entire extended family; her role as the future ruler of the kingdom meant that once she was of age she was required to act as host. Her father said it was to get her accustomed to the duties she would hold as ruler, but really it was because he was lazy and didn’t want to do it himself.

“At least mother helps,” Ino muttered to herself, sifting through pages to find the requisitions from the kitchen. While her mother usually stayed on top of the finances of their admittedly tiny home state, working through the costs of putting on a tournament and hosting delegations from roughly ten other kingdoms required more help. Help in the form of Ino; and while she enjoyed the mathematics, it seemed to be a never ending exercise.

The only relief was that they had more than enough money, she supposed, finishing her sums and re-shuffling the papers so they were in the proper order. Not a copper out of place, and all of the farmers and other labourers and craftsmen involved in the process of food production and the other smaller goods for the tournament had received their pay. The labourers working to finish the seating at the jousting lanes and the melee pit had not yet received the last of their gold, but once they were finished the pay notices would be sent out.

Ino pushed herself back from the low table, stretching her arms and back as she stood from the cushions she had been seated on. She straightened the drape of her dress, and leaned to scoop the leather-bound books and unbound papers off of her table.

The halls of the castle were abustle with all manner of persons as Ino searched for her mother. She ran into at least three cooks arguing about sauce recipes, had to duck behind a cluster of pages listening to their instructor about ball etiquette to avoid her aunt Kaori, and had a bouquet of bush clover flowers pressed into her hand by Choji, who looked as if he had just raided the kitchens.

“Your dad is going completely bonkers,” her childhood friend said, slipping in front of her to push his way through all of the people. Ino followed behind, grateful for the help.

“What’s happened this time?” she asked, tucking the flowers atop the books and papers so they couldn’t fly away. “Please tell me Shikaku is with him, whatever it is.”

“Yeah, he is,” Choji stuffed a cake from the basket of them he had into his mouth, spoke around it, “m’ dad’s with him too. Your grandfather has endorsed that kid from Naka to wed you.”

“That kid? Naka? Wait,” she stared at him with narrowed eyes until he turned, looking nervous, to meet her gaze, “Sasuke Uchiha?”

“Yeah, him,” Choji swallowed nervously, tugged the collar of his shirt as if the decision was his fault.

Ino grumbled wordlessly the rest of the way to the solar her mother was in, fisting a hand in the back of Choji’s tunic so he could lead her. The Uchiha family had a well-traced royal history, but even more well-traced was their history of invasions--failed or otherwise--their predilection toward civil wars lasting decades, and their feud with the Senju, who had died out or been dispersed across the near kingdoms at least fifty years before Ino had been born. Sasuke Uchiha, the second son of the current ruler but heir after his older brother died from an unknown illness, exemplified the worst things of the family.

Ino  _ hated _ him. And while she generally disliked her father’s father, the former King-Consort, his endorsement solidified that dislike as well.

“Mother!” she shouted before the door had even closed behind her and Choji, “Grandfather is here!”

“I’ve already been to receive him,” Hitode Yamanaka said, looking up from her embroidery to her daughter. Her eyes softened when she saw the way Ino was clinging to Choji. She set the hoop and needle down, gestured for the other person present, Choji’s mother, to pour tea for the newcomers. “And I have heard what he was suggesting to your father,” she said, seating Ino next to her, Choji next to Ino. With gentle hands she took the cakes from Choji and shared them between the four of them. “This doesn’t change anything, my blossom.”

She made a face at that, and her mother laughed. “I mean it, dear. Your grandfather may have opinions, but they hardly matter to me,” Hitode said, smoothing back some flyaway hairs from her daughter’s face.

_ A little comforting _ , Ino decided, stuffing the cake she had been given into her mouth while her mother double checked the papers that had been brought. “I think,” Ino said after she had swallowed the cake and wiped her face clean, “I should speak to Father.”

-

Inoichi Yamanaka, head of the Yamanaka family and King of Sanchō, was holed up in his study with his chief strategist and oldest friend, getting drunk despite the early hour.

Ino swept in, her skirts in hand so they barely swept the floor. Said floor was in need of a sweep, and when she finally found her dad, Ino could do little more than sniff disapprovingly. Shikaku and Inoichi depressed her at their shared low points, and considering that this one in particular was heading off the tournament, she had no sympathy.

“Father, where is Grandfather?” she demanded, dropping her skirts and ignoring Choji, who had followed her in and along the way picked up Shikamaru.

“We’ve placed him,” a hiccup, and he sat up fully in his plush chair to look at her, “in the rooms nearest the stables.”

Shikaku nodded sagely from his position half-under the writing desk. “Said he wouldn’t be out until the morning, send his food in there,” the other man said, struggling to sit up. He managed it, but slammed his head into the bottom of the desk and dropped like a stone.

Ino nodded firmly in return, turned her heel so sharply her skirts nearly floated with the movement, and caught Shikamaru and Choji in strangleholds on her way back out.

“Strategy meeting, my chambers,” she said, even though she was dragging them there like unruly children. Choji grunted in approval. Shikamaru yawned.

The walk wasn’t far, and by the time they made it Choji had wrestled out of Ino’s arm and Shikamaru had all but fallen asleep. Ino’s rooms were empty, cleaned during her short absence.

“Right,” Ino said, dropping Shikamaru onto the wood floor, settling down at the low table, “Grandfather wishes for me to marry Sasuke Uchiha.”

Shikamaru shuddered, sat up and scooted to the table, “Bad idea. Naka is unstable at best, in full out war at worst; in any case, the land mass between them and us would make the marriage all but impossible. You’re heir, he’s heir.”

Ino nodded, and Choji sat at the table as well, pulled out a wrapped package of pastries from his tunic as he added, “They hardly have any assets, anyway. No good land, no real valuables or industries. They depend on trade to feed their people, which given their state of relations with everyone else…”

“Means that their people are hungry and on the verge of rebellion at all times,” Shikamaru finished, his arms crossed over his chest as he shook his head. “Damn stupid.”

“Our mission,” Ino said, resting her hands on the table, “is to prevent anyone else from asking for my hand. As such, one of you might have to pretend we’re in a relationship.”

Shikamaru gaped. Choji choked on his pastry.

-

Jousting was a bit of a yawn-fest, if Ino was being honest with herself. Most of the tournament was to be jousts, between sword matches and exhibition displays of traditional fighting techniques, and Ino had resigned herself to two weeks of being alternately bored out of her mind and irritated to hell. She was seated in the stands with her mother and her mother’s ladies, surrounded by a few of her own ladies (cousins, mostly involved in their own gossip) and they’d sat through four separate pairs of knights doing their damndest to knock each other off of their horses.

After a course of refreshments, a fifth pair were readying to go, and Ino could barely hold interest as a tall knight with heavily embossed armor in a wolf motif and a frankly average looking knight with no distinguishing characteristics settled and charged. It was over in seconds; the knight with the ornately embossed armor was forcibly popped up and out of his saddle, flying back as the other knight swerved, pulling their horse around and their lance up.

The interest that had fled from her very quickly returned. She’d met the man in the embossed armor before. His name was Kiba, and he’d offered marriage the last two years. She remembered him not for that, but for his triumph at the lists the years previous; nobody had unseated him, nor even come close. And yet, this newcomer whose face she still had not seen had managed it.

“Mother,” she carefully turned in such a way as to keep her eyes on the lists, but move her attention to her parents, “who was that?”

“One of the knights from, oh,” Hitode glanced down at the banners that had been hung along the south side of the melee field, “the Wooded Isles. They were stuck in civil war for some years, I believe this is the first year you will have met anyone from there. There--the white square, on the field of azure,” she nodded to it. “I know not the name of that knight, however. Sir Hatake, the man down at the lists, with the silver hair and the sighthounds, is the only one I have met.”

Ino inspected the knight, Sir Hatake, before looking at the flag. He seemed wire-thin, scarred and worn, and when the other knight from the Wooded Isles who was in the joust reached their starting place again, he leaned on the fence surrounding the lists to talk to them. The flag was more interesting. Ino knew the style of flag,  _ mon _ , to be simplistic, and it was.

Her eyes slid from the white checked square of the Wooded Isles to that of her own family, the purpure bush clovers wreathing the white attired stag in the middle of springing over the argent pale, two of the bō that Choji’s family used crossed behind. Somewhat excessive. She turned her attention back to the jousters in time to see the mystery knight again unseat Kiba, this time dismounting to duck under the tilt barrier and help him stand, somehow managing to keep their own horse in check.

They exchanged words before returning to their starting places, but given the distance from her seat Ino couldn’t hear what was said. It seemed amiable. Once both of the knights had returned to their starting spots and the monitor had gone to each end, handing each jouster a fresh lance, and then they were set up to go again.

Ino felt almost at the edge of her seat as the jousters settled in, nudged their destriers from easy trots to full charges. She didn’t flinch at the impact, and her mouth dropped open as Kiba was sent flying again.

-

The melee was the culmination of the main tournament, three days long and involving every iteration of horse, foot, team and free-for-all that one could imagine. Ino had only been forced to sit through one each day, and the last on the final day was the one she looked forward to the most. It was an on-foot free-for-all, last person standing was awarded the largest purse of the entire two weeks.

Maybe it said something about her that the sheer brawl-like violence excited her the most, but Ino didn’t care. She deserved at least that after having to deal with her grandfather at every dinner they’d had.

With her mother in the castle ensuring that preparations for the day’s feast went smoothly, and her father actually taking his duties as ruler of the kingdom seriously, Ino was left with the company of one of her ladies, a cousin of Choji’s named Chouka, and Choji and Shikamaru themselves, though they were ignoring the melee in favor of muttering to each other, sending glares occasionally across the field at the contingent from Naka. Ino could barely see Sasuke from her seat, but what she could see of him told her that he was fuming.

_ Ah, well, just because you are a prince does not mean you are a great fighter _ , she thought, turning her attention to the field. The final group of knights had been brought out, given their shields--painted with each knight’s respective arms--and had their swords checked by the monitors.

Once the rules had been stated, the knights sent to the edges of the field, and the monitors out to prowl the edges, it started.

Most of the beginning of the fight was chaos, the individual knights difficult to follow as they all massed at the center of the arena. It took a while before most of the knights were weeded out, dragged off the field by the monitors so they wouldn’t be injured (or, really, further injured), and then the tide of the mock-battle changed.

Ino knew that she was gaping. Hell, she could see Choji and Shikamaru likewise staring at the sole standing knight with thinly veiled shock on their faces as the knights dropped like ripe apples at the hand of one.

“Who  _ is _ that?” Chouka said, her voice breathless with awe, her hands tight on Ino’s.

“I have no idea,” Ino returned, just as breathless. The ease with which the knight had taken down the remaining others, their impressive stamina--whoever they were, they deserved the purse.

Monitors helped the remaining knights up, and the tall man--Kakashi--entered the arena. Ino couldn’t help the gasp; she hadn’t seen the painted shield, the knights had all been moving too quickly, but if he was there it meant that the knight who had won--

“The Wooded Isles,” Ino said, and the other three looked at her, expectant. “I don’t know who they are but they absolutely trounced Sir Kiba in the joust several days ago.”

“Kiba?” Shikamaru asked, a crease developing between his eyebrows. Choji whistled, impressed.

They all looked back to the field as the remaining monitor went to talk to the knight and Kakashi. The stands quieted; all looked forward to seeing the winner.

After a moment, the monitor turned away, facing Inoichi and, by extension, Ino, “The winner of the final melee, to be awarded the Heir’s Purse two eves from today, is Lady Sakura of the Wooded Isles!”

“Oh, a lady knight!” Chouka all but squealed, barely audible over the din of the people in the stands, but Ino wasn’t paying attention to her. No, she was paying attention to the Lady Sakura, who had pulled off her helmet to reveal sharp green eyes and hair the color of cherry blossoms braided away from her face. Delicate features, but strong, with a smile on her lips as she bowed to the king, then turned to bow to Ino, as was required.

_ Oh, no _ , Ino thought, suddenly feeling quite faint as the full green gaze hit her, the smile directed at her, the deep bow, s _ he’s beautiful. _

-

She was in a daze. The afternoon had passed, the night’s feast, and before she knew it Ino was sitting on her bed, in her bedclothes, her boar-bristle brush in hand.

“What am I  _ doing _ ?” she asked her room in general, staring at herself in her looking glass. It all seemed a blur, after the melee. Or, more accurately, what happened  _ after _ the melee. The memory came flooding back like a drenching tide of cold water, and she forced herself to begin brushing her hair as she examined the memories.

Once the arena had been cleared and most of the common folk and knights disassembled, Ino, along with Chouka and Shikamaru and Choji, had begun to head back to the castle proper. They weren’t in any hurry; sundown was the signal for the feast and the sun was still high. Ino did take the chance to welcome any visitors they happened upon, which led to the four of them taking a rather rambling excursion through the tent camp that had been set up.

Choji was complaining by the time they rounded the corner that led to the most direct path to the castle, Shikamaru was sighing, and Chouka was talking nearly non-stop about all of the people they had met. Ino, actually, was having a great time; she enjoyed meeting and talking to the visiting people, for the most part, and those that she had met had not given her reason for thinking otherwise. But then they did round the corner, and who should appear but one Sasuke Uchiha, flanked by what appeared to be a pair of squires.

He had noticed them, but Ino had not seen him at first. Out from an alley between two tents, between the Uchiha and Ino’s group, emerged Lady Sakura, talking animatedly to the lanky silver-haired knight and a young blond man. That is who Ino noticed, and very quickly she was noticed in return.

“Heir Ino?” the lanky knight--Kakashi--bowed, gestured to the blond man, who bowed as well. “May I introduce Naruto Uzumaki, heir apparent to the throne of the Green Isles?”

“Ino Yamanaka,” she curtsied, smiling slightly, “Heir apparent of Sanchō. It is my honor.”

That was when she noticed Sasuke, but she ignored him, because Naruto was bowing again, taking her hand to kiss it, a tradition that Ino knew for a fact was not practiced on the Green Isles. They must’ve had lessons. “My honor as well,” he said, smiling easily, “Sorry we haven’t been introduced before now--this is a first trip for all of us.”

“Most of us,” Kakashi amended, turning then to the Lady Sakura. “And I believe you know Lady Sakura Haruno, our resident prizewinner.”

The knight bowed, low, kissed Ino’s hand as well. She couldn’t help the blush at the time, and the memory made her blush harder. “It is an honor, Heir Ino,” the woman murmured, her eyes flickering up to Ino’s face as she smiled, slightly.

Oh, then Uchiha made his presence very known.

A cough, demandingly loud. The three from the Green Isles turned to look, but Sakura kept a hold on Ino’s hand. Ino realized that when a calloused thumb began rubbing across the back of her clenched hand, and she blushed harder (harder still at the memory) and tried to loosen her grip.

Her memory of what happened next was fuzzy, in part because it had happened so quickly, and also because she was still quite focused on Lady Sakura. Sasuke, though, was also focused on Lady Sakura, and before anyone could move or even introduce themselves (really, what was courtesy coming to), he had marched forward and hit her with his glove.

Lightly, on the shoulder, but it still made Ino’s blood boil. Challenges were supposed to only follow the rejection of a bout or sword fight, and Ino knew for a fact that Sasuke Uchiha had not put his name in any of the lists.

“Tomorrow?” Lady Sakura said lightly, flicking the glove away from her with one light hand movement. “Any particular wager, Prince Sasuke?”

“Sword.” He jutted his chin out, and it took Ino a moment to realize that he was gesturing at  _ her _ , not at anything that would’ve actually made sense. 

“You’re very stupid, you know that?” Lady Sakura said to the sole heir of the Naka kingdom, as she stuck out her hand for him to shake.

“Oh,  _ no _ ,” Ino muttered, the realization of Sasuke’s gesture dawning on her. She left the brush on her bed in favor of grabbing the robe on her chair and pulling it on, buttoning as she went. She needed to talk to her mother, and immediately.

-

The day after the final melee, the second to last day of the tournament itself, dawned much too early in Ino’s unspoken opinion. Maybe it was because she’d spent most of the night fretting, or maybe it was because she was actually awoken quite early by Choji and Shikamaru fleeing into her chambers. Whatever the cause, by the time she had a gown on (purple, embroidered with gold bush flowers, rather appropriate) and had a meagre breakfast, she was ready to go back to bed.

That, obviously, was not going to happen, and she resigned herself to a day taking naps whenever and wherever she had the chance. There were no formal events, but she had bowed to her mother’s wish of going to the arena and sitting through the last few bouts and exhibition matches. The only thing tiding her over, other than Choji sitting next to her so she could lean on him, was the assortment of pies and pastries that she had stolen from the kitchens and they were slowly devouring.

By the time the midday bell rung, they’d sat through two exhibition matches (one featuring Choji’s father) and two duels (thankfully, not ones to the death). Ino had checked the lists that morning and they really only needed stay for the bout that would follow the midday meal.

Lady Sakura Haruno against Prince Sasuke Uchiha.

They were by no means the only ones looking forward to it, though Ino knew she was the only one doing so with dread. Sasuke, after all, had wagered her hand on the duel.  _ Without  _ her consent. And while Ino knew that whatever the outcome she could turn the winner down, she still felt almost sick as she thought of it.

Choji shoved half a tart in her hand as they waited, and eventually the arena was cleared of the previous duelers and Sakura and Sasuke emerged, clad in full armour and accompanied by another. In Sakura’s case, the blond man, who was talking cheerily to her despite the importance of the situation. He noticed Ino and Choji in the stands, stopped to wave madly at them until they waved back.

All said and done, it was actually a relief when Sasuke and Sakura stepped forward, swords drawn and helmets on. The monitor called to attention, and once he had gotten out of the way, called for them to start.

Several moments were spent circling, both the knight and the prince well aware that if they moved first they were the one likely to lose.

Sasuke eventually did strike, a swift jab that slid off the dark blue of Sakura’s shield as she turned with his movement, brought her own sword up to fend off another jab before it was her turn to take the offensive. Two fluid butterfly-sweeps that sent Sasuke dancing back, nearly to the edge of the packed dirt of the arena, followed by several quick jabs.

Sakura’s style with the sword was not something that Ino had seen before; every movement was fluid, yet controlled. No movement except those that were strictly necessary. And she was ruthless; in five minutes she had Sasuke looking like he was ready to pass out, but was still practically bouncing around him.

A further five minutes of dancing--for that is what it seemed like Sakura was doing--and Sakura finished it. She brought her sword down, around, flinging Sasuke himself down onto his back and his sword half a dozen feet away.

“Yield,” she said calmly, once she had razor point of her claymore hovering under Sasuke’s chin.

He stared at her for a few moments, and even at a distance Ino could see the deviance fleeing his body by the time he said, loud enough for their monitor and most of those in the stands to hear. “I yield, Lady Sakura.”

“And?” she flicked her sword away, sheathed it but remained standing over the other.

“I renounce any offers to Heir Ino Yamanaka’s hand, and promise to never pursue her hand from this hour,” the words were more spit out than said, but they were verbalized and Ino paused, closed her eyes and breathed out a sigh of relief. When she opened her eyes, Sasuke was being pulled up by the monitor and Sakura, her helm removed, was heading in Ino’s direction.

“Heir Ino,” Sakura said, and the murmurs of the crowd quieted. Ino flushed. “With your leave,” the knight said, not really something that Ino expected, and when she reached the stands she bowed before taking Ino’s gloved hand, kissing it.

Impulse caught her, and before Ino really knew what she was doing she had tugged blush pink ribbon holding her hair up out, tied the silk in a neat bow around Sakura’s right arm.

“Thank you,” Ino said, for Sakura and Sakura only, “for defending my honor.”

-

They were finished with the basket of pastries and sore from sitting all day by the time that the day’s events wound up. It was a relief to stretch after that, and Shikamaru met Ino and Choji on their way down from the seats. Food, and sleep, that was all Ino wanted.

“Heir Ino?”

Ino paused at the already-familiar voice calling her name, waited until Choji and Shikamaru had gone on ahead before she turned, finding Sakura there. The lady knight was still in her mail and plate, wisps of her pink hair sticking to her forehead and her helm under one arm.

“Lady Sakura,” Ino bowed, feeling victorious when a blush only crept over her ears, hidden under her smoothed back hair, and not across her face.

“Heading back?” the other woman asked, and when Ino nodded she offered an armour-covered arm. The same arm that Ino had tied her ribbon around. Ino took the proffered arm, and they headed at a slow pace after Shikamaru and Choji.

“Tell me,” Sakura said after they were on the avenue that cut through the tent city, “why is the Naka boy so insistent about, uh, the purpose of our duel?”

Ino sighed, and slowed her pace just a little more. It was a long explanation. “Sanchō is one of the most fertile kingdoms in this area, we produce a lot of the food that other countries buy and feed their people with,” Ino said, “Naka has notoriously poor land, on the other hand; it doesn’t help that they’re in war, civil or otherwise, nearly constantly.”

“So they want you to marry him so they can feed their people?” Sakura inquired.

“Well,” Ino returned, somewhat tartly, “that and the other wealth that we have. There are two salt mines in the northern mountains, and we have plenty of metals that we mine, as well. Then also, we’ve a whole border on the coast, which means trade with places such as the Green Isles,” she tipped a head to Sakura, who smiled slightly, “and other nations that would otherwise require long over-land routes.  _ And _ , since we have a reliable sea-trade, we’re one of the main sources of spice from Dunland, south and east across the sea.”

“So there are,” Sakura paused, still smiling, “a lot of reasons for someone to want to marry you.”

“Well, so far I’ve been given every reason under the sun other than actual mutual attraction or love,” Ino said, also smiling, though it was a little bitter.

“Hm, I think that might not be the case anymore.” But before Ino could demand the meaning of that, they had made it to the castle, and Shikamaru and Choji. “I shall see you tomorrow eve,” Sakura said, once Ino had let go of her to join Choji and Shikamaru, “I do believe you will be bestowing purses at the feast?”

“Oh, yes,” Ino couldn’t really help the grimace that crossed her face at that, but at least the sound of Sakura laughing at her expression was beautiful. “On the morrow, then.”

-

“I’m so tired,” Ino grumbled, leaning against Choji as they hid in her mother’s extensive gardens. The final day of the tournament had gone well, almost  _ too _ well, so obviously it couldn’t stay going that way, and she’d had to sit through three courses of absolute vitrol from her grandfather, and had only escaped because there was a break between the meal and the ball.

Once she’d been forced into her ballgown, thankfully lacking the massive skirts that had finally fallen out of popularity, she’d disappeared into the gardens, knowing them to be empty. It was quite telling that Choji knew to find her there, but she appreciated his presence. He was very good at grounding her when she needed it.

“Well, everyone is going to be leaving in the next couple days,” Choji said, gingerly patting her head so he wouldn’t muss her carefully braided hair.

Ino grunted in reply to that, pushed herself up to standing. She smoothed the velvet of her gown down, and said, “I’m going to talk a walk. Clear my head; find me if they are going to start.”

“Sure, sure,” Choji waved a hand, remained seated.

Walks in the gloaming were a special type of treat, in Ino’s opinion. The vibrant colors of the flowers dulled to purpley-blues, the heat of the day cooled off, and most of the wildlife was out and about.

Ino felt a mix of conflicted emotions. On one hand, she was beyond relieved that the encampment would be dissolving and she could go back to day to day life. On the other, something in her stomach and throat fought against that; she wanted the encampment to stay. Really, she wanted the delegation from the Green Isles, specifically Lady Sakura Haruno, to stay.

There was a slight nausea at that, but she paused, closed her eyes and breathed. She would be fine. Whatever relationship that could have come from that probably would not have worked out; hell, Ino didn’t even rightly know Sakura’s position in the Green Isles’ court.

Ino sighed, opened her eyes and continued on the stone-paved path.  _ Nothing good comes of moping _ , she sternly told herself as she rounded a particularly large patch of lavender. Then were the flowering bushes and trees, and the scent of lilacs calmed her.

Calmed her, at least, until she noticed somebody standing under the cherry trees. Gods, another interruption.

_ Civil and demure _ , Ino straightened her back, continued. It wasn’t until she was within talking distance of the other person that she realised they were very familiar. In fact, she had just been thinking about that particular person, and it was with a knot in her stomach that she, upon getting close to Lady Sakura, said, “Lady Sakura, I did not expect to find you--or, rather, anyone--here.”

“Oh! Oh, Heir Ino, I’m sorry,” Sakura stepped back from the branch of cherry blossoms she was admiring, and Ino had to contain a strangled noise as she took in the knight’s outfit. Well cut and tightly fitted hose, an ivory chemise under a long tunic in what appeared to be dark reds and blues, trimmed with silver braid. Her right hand rested on her sword, which was sheathed in the same black leather as her belt and boots. Overall, a picture of elegance, right out of a bedtime story. “I was merely admiring the cherry trees; I didn’t know that the ornamental variety grew here,” Sakura continued, snapping Ino abruptly out of her rose-tinted thoughts.

“Do they grow in the Green Isles?” Ino asked, actually interested. One thing she inherited from her mother (other than general common sense) was an avid interest in horticulture. The cherry trees, in particular, were very old and had never produced fruit, and were not found anywhere else that Ino knew of.

“Ours are more pink than white,” Sakura said, sounding somewhat wistful, “in our native tongue, the flowers are called  _ sakura _ .”

Ino’s brain felt as if it died.  _ Sakura _ . The pink hair, the color of cherry blossoms.

“Are you alright? Heir Ino?” Sakura sounded almost worried, and Ino shook her head slightly, mustered up a smile.

“I’m fine,” she said, not a moment before the bells set off, signaling for everyone to head to the ballroom.

“Well,” Sakura held out an arm, and Ino didn’t hesitate even a second to loop her hand around Sakura’s elbow. “Shall we?”

-

Halfway through the ball, Ino slipped out. She had been on her feet nearly the entire day, and she was sick of socializing and dancing. Solitude and quiet was what she looked for, and before long she found herself in the gardens again, with a lantern to stave off the darkness and a shawl to stave off the nighttime chill.

Ino found herself a seat under one of the old cherry trees she had found Sakura in front of only hours before, sighed as she sat on the ground. Her feet ached and she was overwarm from all the people in the ballroom.

She sat in silence for a while, watching the fireflies flit through the gardens as she tried to think about what she needed to do the next day, but it was difficult. She was distracted. While her usual attitude was to ignore her feelings if they were troublesome, it was difficult to deny the fact that she was attracted to Sakura. It was stupid; they’d known each other for less than a week and would soon be parted.

Ino sighed, set her chin on her hand, and stared at the glowing bugs.

She was so focused on doing nothing that she almost didn’t hear the approaching footsteps.

“Heir Ino?” Sakura’s voice was soft.

Ino started, but only slightly, and passed it off as adjusting her belt. “Lady Sakura,” she said, looking up. Sakura was flushed but smiling, though her expression turned to one of concern when she saw Ino’s face.

“Are you alright?” Sakura asked, kneeling down.

“What…?” Ino brought a hand up, touched her face, and found tears making their way down her cheeks. “Oh, I’m,” she tugged a kerchief out of her gown, wiped her face. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Sakura rocked back on the balls of her feet, but the concern remained. “What brings you out here during such a fine ball?”

“Being the perfect daughter and host for two week straight is,” Ino rubbed her eyes again, tucked her kerchief back away, and looked back to Sakura, “tiring. What brings you out here? I thought Shikaku had trapped you and Sir Kakashi in talk about trade?”

Sakura snorted at that, slid down to sit cross-legged. “They started arguing about fur costs. I left. I have, er, been meaning to ask, and I thought you might be out here,” she paused, looked a mix of sheepish and flushed.

“Anything.”

Sakura cleared her throat, stood, and kneeled back down, taking Ino’s hands as she did. “Heir Ino, I know this is bad timing with my departure tomorrow, but I obtained your parents’ approval and was wondering if I might have leave to court you,” Sakura said, not stumbling over any of the words as Ino would have in that situation.

Ino somehow managed to not just say “What?” while she comprehended what Sakura had actually said. “You want,” Ino paused, “to court me?”

“With your permission. I might not be first heir to any lands, but I am to be considered as heir to the throne of the Green Isles should Naruto die or not produce heirs,” by that point, Sakura had begun to babble.

“Yes,” Ino said, squeezing Sakura’s hands. Sakura abruptly stopped speaking, looked at her with something like astonishment. “ _ Yes _ ,” she repeated.

Choji found them nearly an hour later, still seated under the cherry trees, caught up in conversation.

-

The pounding on her door was loud and vicious and even though Ino was buried in her covers she knew that if she looked out the window it would also be too early for anyone to be waking her. Unless, of course, it was an emergency.

She threw the sheets off, pulled on a gown over her sleeping chemise, and toed on slippers as she pulled her hair up. The knocking hadn’t ceased, and when she opened her door to find Choji standing outside of it she groaned. “Why this early? Is Father all right?”

“I think that’s the quickest you’ve ever gotten up,” Choji said, with something like awe in his voice. He yelped when she smacked him in the arm, and got to it, “Visitors, pulled in a few moments ago.”

“Visitors?” Ino inquired, following him as he headed down from her rooms and toward the courtyard.

“Yes they, uh, traveled a pretty long way,” Choji said. Something in his tone was suspicious, but Ino generally trusted her childhood friends, so she continued following until they were going out one of the entrances near the kitchens.

“But who are the visitors?” Ino pressed, accepting the scone that Choji passed to her but not eating it.

“You’ll see,” he said, and Ino was glad it was early and her patience had not run out, because he was going through a lot it.

But then the scone was forgotten, and her annoyance with Choji was also forgotten, because she recognized the flags that were flying over a convoy of carts and horses being unloaded. White boxes on a field of navy blue. She dropped the scone when she saw the flags, gasped when she saw a flash of pink between the dun of the horses.

Vaguely, in some part of her brain that was more aware, she heard Choji say something, but she was already tearing across the courtyard, sliding between porters and around grooms and stable boys. Maybe it wasn’t smart, in slippers and undressed and all as she was, but Ino did not care at all.

Sakura turned as she neared, and, oh, her hair was nearly twice the length it had been, pulled back in twin plaits, her skin browned from time in the sun, and her  _ smile _ . Ino didn’t even care that she was probably grossly crying all over herself because they were hugging, and it had been over a  _ year _ since she had seen Sakura at that first tournament, a year of exchanging letters and mementos.

“Why are you here? Why are so many with you?” Ino finally asked after they’d whirled around and kissed once or twice, delighted but still confused.

“Has no one told you?” Sakura asked, with no small amount of glee in her tone, “there’s to be a wedding!”


End file.
